Witness To A Job Search:

By Jason Kornblatt

This just happened.

I’ve got the laundry in, and have just sat down to do a little job search “work”, when the doorbell rings, momentarily saving me. Two women are at the door, who I correctly surmise are Jehovah’s witnesses, there to save me the rest of the way.

It’s Marsha and Alyssa. Marsha, an older woman with a friendly smile, and the equally pleasant Alyssa, who observes our discussion, possibly learning how to spread the Good News.

Marsha says, “let me ask you a question. Things aren’t going so well.  Do you think they'll get better?”

At this point, I’m not certain whether Marsha is speaking about my personal job search, or the state of the world. But I say, “I do, yes. Things will get better.”

Marsha looks a touch surprised. “You think so? Why?”

“Well,” I say. “Because that’s how things work. They get worse, and then they get better. Repeat. It’s all just weather.”

Marsha smiles. “And who do you think will make it better?”

I guessed. “Us.  We all will.”

Marsha says, “I’m here to tell you God will. Let me read you something from this scripture.” And she pulls out her phone, scrolls through some verses, and reads something I can’t quite recall, but we have a nice discussion about it.
The conversation is going well.

Marsha is playing it close to the vest, not pressing me too hard, and I’m equally respectful, giving my views.

There's one moment when Alyssa’s smile disappears, and I’m concerned that I might be in danger of converting her to MY world view; so I ease the breaks and she seems to quickly recover.

Martha and I may not agree on the concept of God, but we find middle ground.
I tell her, “The way I view things, God says to us, ‘okay, it’s your turn now. Good luck.’                                                 I think he trusts us to handle things…
And yes, there are an awful lot of us,
and nothing is perfect.
We’ve messed up a lot,
but we also right the ship--
before crashing it again;
and then fix it up a little,
and create new ship technology,
which doesn’t work at first,
but then takes everyone’s jobs,
and so on….”

At this point, Marsha and Alyssa finally tell me their names, and ask me mine and, because we’re all sooo imperfect, we almost immediately have to ask each other our names again, literally less than a minute later. But now I think they’re cemented in there, at least for the afternoon.

Marsha hands me a pamphlet and says “This is our pamphlet,” and tells me about their website.

And as Marsha and Alyssa walk down my broken steps, in what I suspect was a happy attitude, at least until they get to the next house, I close and lock my door, and go upstairs to write this down.

Because here’s my view:

When God, or the universe, sends you an interruption, you should consider allowing it to divinely interrupt you.

Distractions are part of the journey.